


I Held You Closer

by destroytheblur



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destroytheblur/pseuds/destroytheblur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Santana just rolls her eyes, knowing how truly wrong her teacher is. None of these kids understand real pain." What happens to Santana when Mr. Shuester has the New Directions prepare songs about their pains or harsh realities? (Brittana one-shot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Held You Closer

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So I never post my fanfics, but for some reason, I really like how this one came together. It was inspired by a Death Cab for Cutie song, We Looked Like Giants. (In case you’re wondering, that’s the song Santana sings). Read it and please, please review! I’d genuinely like to hear what you think of my writing.  
> By the way, the song lyrics, as Santana sings, are in boldface and flashbacks are in italics. Regular typeface is obviously present tense- but you probably could’ve figured that out yourself.

“Alright guys, settle down!” Mr. Shuester claps his hands together, gathering the attention of the Glee Club, “This week’s lesson was to pick a song that relates to a harsh reality you face or a continuous pain. I know it’s a rather depressing lesson, but I really think that channeling these pains will help us be more prepared for Nationals in two weeks!”

The entire room bursts out in applause and cheers. Santana smiles, remembering how pathetic this club was sophomore year compared it to now. She had grown oddly sentimental over the past few weeks, and it’s pissing her off. Sure, she has perfectly good reason to- but missing an old time and place everyday really hurts.

Rachel, of course, starts off the performances, singing some song by Barbra Streisand. She has a really nice voice, no questions asked. But Santana had trained herself to zone the diva’s voice out the entire year, these past weeks especially. Her patience, as if she had any in the first place, had grown thin. Quinn sings next, followed by Finn. As the last notes of Losing my Religion ring out, Santana raises her hand.

“Can I go next?” She questions.

“Yes, of course, Santana!” the teacher answers a little too enthusiastically.

“Okay,” Santana address the glee club, almost nervously, “This song is way out of my vocal range, but when Mr. Shue gave us the assignment, it was the first song to pop into my head. Unlike Berry, I will be singing about real pain.” Rachel gasps.

“Easy Santana,” Mr. Shuester warns, “Don’t minimize someone’s emotions, everyone has real pain.”

Santana just rolls her eyes, knowing how truly wrong her teacher is. None of these kids understand real pain. She looks out into the audience, searching for a face that’s not there and not going to be there.. The band starts to play the beginning notes of her song. Santana tries to keep her emotions in tact and her breathing steady as she begins to sing.

**God bless the daylight,**

**the sugary smell of springtime,**

**remembering when you were mine**

**in a still suburban town.**

_“Brittany!” You laugh hysterically, watching your girlfriend dye an easter egg. She had spent half an hour perfecting a special design on a single egg, only for it all to go to waste when she tripped and dropped it on the ground._

_“Santana, this isn’t funny! This is a disaster!” Studying her face, you can’t tell whether or not she’s about to laugh or cry._

_“Babe, it’s kinda funny,” you smirk._

_“Oh yeah?” She dares you, picking up an easter egg you had just dyed, “Do you think this is funny?” She takes a blue-purple egg and chucks it at you. The shell shatters, and bits of the once-beautiful creation scatter the floor and your blue minidress. You stand there, shocked, until you remember that you need to retaliate._

_You pick up a blue and green one and smash it on her head. Bits of the egg bury themselves in her long, blonde locks. Her blue eyes dance as she laughs, and throws yet another easter egg at you. Before you even know it, all fifty-five dyed eggs lay on the floor or stick to your clothing, smushed and ruined._

_“Oh my God no,” Her eyes widen, “I just realized all these eggs were supposed to be for your little cousins’ egg hunt… Santana, you can’t have an egg hunt without eggs.”_

_You sigh loudly and obnoxiously, “Britt, can’t we just buy plastic eggs? This is bullshit, and I honestly have no desire to make fifty-five more eggs.”_

_“No, we need to make more of them. Buying plastic eggs is cheating, and it’s also offensive to the chickens,” She affirms, ever-so adorably._

_“Britt please, Maria and Jasmine aren’t gonna give a rat’s ass if the eggs are ‘homemade’ or whatever. In fact, they’d probably prefer if we went out to like CVS or something and bought plastic eggs to fill with candy.” You say, and watch your girlfriend take in your words._

_“You have a point,” she smiles, “Plus if we buy candy, I can have all the leftovers.”_

_“No way babe, we’re sharing,” You wink, and take her hand in your own._

**When every thursday,**

**I’d brave those mountain passes**

**and you’d skip your early classes**

**and we’d learn how our bodies worked.**

_As her tender hands roam up and down your thighs, you swear you’ve never been this turned before. You’ve been with a bunch of guys, but being with them hadn’t felt even close to this good. It’s probably just the beer the two of you had consumed earlier, you’re definitely not attracted to girls, not even Brittany. But right now, you don’t care that you shouldn’t be doing this, because this is wrong. All you want is to be closer to her._

_You break the passionate kiss, and peel off the top of your cheerleading uniform, leaving you only in a lacy red bra. She looks down at you, eyeing your breasts hungrily._

_“Jesus Christ Santana, you’re so hot,” She murmurs, as she unclasps your bra effortlessly and draws you in for another kiss._

_You desperately remove her shirt and her bra, tossing them onto the ground. She’s beautiful, you know you can’t and don’t think that, but she’s still beautiful. Before you know it, all of your clothes are gone and she’s making you feel things that you never deemed possible, as her long fingers slide in and out of you._

_“Britt,” you pant, “How are you so good… good at this?” A bead of sweat drips down your nose and onto your lip._

_“Am I good?” She smiles, and places tender kisses on the inside of your thighs. You spread legs more, letting her know to keep going._

_“Oh my god, yes,” you gasp, as she continues to turn you on even more. When you finally come undone and stare into her aqua eyes as you do, that’s when you know things will never be the same again._

**Goddamn the black night,**

**with all it’s foul temptations.**

**I’d become what i always hated**

**when I was with you then.**

_You smile and thank the waitress as she re-fills your glass of water._

_“Why is this food so good?” Puck murmurs, shoving a heaping forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. Breadsticks had never been your favorite restaurant, but you had developed a liking to it after Brittany said it was her favorite sophomore year._

_Your girlfriend sits next to you, close enough to hold hands under the table, but positioned far enough to keep anyone from getting suspicious. The glee kids are nosey enough, your personal life is none of their business. It can’t be any of their business. Despite this, you can’t help but feel a little bit envious of Kurt and Blaine, who sit at the other-end of the table, feeding each other and openly linking hands._

_“Mercedes, give me your phone!” You hear Rachel demand._

_“No way in hell, little white girl.” Mercedes snaps._

_“No, I must have your phone- I need to make a call.” You’re amazed how Rachel can make something as simple as asking to borrow a phone melodramatic._

_“Borrow your boyfriend’s, he’s sitting right next to you!"_

_“No, I must have yours,” The brunette giggles and lunges across the table, trying to grab Mercedes’ phone. Inevitably, the phone crashes to the floor. You and Brittany exchange eye contact, you roll your eyes and she nods her head, signaling she agrees with you._

_Rachel tries to squirm under the table, when you remember you’re still holding Brittany’s hand. You start to sweat as you rip her hand out of hers and place it on your own lap. Of all the_ _glee kids to catch you and your girlfriend, Rachel is the absolute worst- she wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut._

_A few minutes after the phone fiasco settles down, you tense up as Brittany places her hand discreetly on your knee. Your paranoia has kicked in, and you sense everybody watching you. What if something drops again and you don’t have time to pull away? Or what if it’s obvious from above the table? You scooch over on the booth, making it so that Brittany’s hand can no longer be on your knee. She doesn’t take the hint, for she moves over and attempts to join your hands._

_You stand up at once, “I’m uh… I’m going to the bathroom.” You climb over Mike and Tina, and run to the washroom._

_Seconds later, Brittany enters. “Are you okay bab-”_

_“What are you doing in here?” You snap._

_“Making sure that you’re okay…” Brittany steps back._

_“I’m perfectly fine Brittany, I just wanted to pee,” You enter a stall and lock the door._

_“I know you’re lying to me,” She murmurs from outside._

_“No I’m not,” You lie, “You should probably get back before they think that we’re fucking in here.”_

_“What the hell Santana? You say it like it’s repulsive to even think about… ”_

_“It is,” you whisper and open the stall door, “This... “ you gesture in between the two of you, “ is so wrong, Brittany.”_

_“What did you just say?” Brittany whimpers, as a single tear falls down her porcelain cheek._

_“You know no one can know about us, not yet, we talked about this,” You watch Brittany’s face grow instantly angry._

_“You know what Santana, I can’t be with someone who’s embarrassed to be with me. Don’t call or even try to talk to me until you realize these aren’t your words, they’re just your abuela’s,” And with that, she storms out the door._

**We looked like giants**

**in the back of my grey subcompact,**

  
**fumbling to make contact,**

**as the others slept inside.**

_“I fucking hate girls’ night,” you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear. Brittany sits on your lap, as Mamma Mia plays on Rachel’s flat screen TV._

_“We’re graduating in a few months baby,” Brittany sighs sadly, “Enjoy them while they’re still here.”_

_“You’re right,” you softly say and place a kiss on the top of her head._

_Five minutes later, you look at the clock, realizing it’s two-thirty in the morning, and everyone is asleep except for you and Brittany. “Britt, are you bored?” you whisper._

_“Yeah… kinda,” She admits, “Girls’ night is fun and all, but we’ve seen this movie a thousand times and everyone’s sleeping.” You chuckle quietly at your girlfriend’s adorableness._

_“You know what would be fun?” You turn her around, so she’s facing you. Your legs are wrapped around her body, her’s also wrapped around you, as you gently place a kiss on her perfect lips. She deepens the kiss, slightly parting her lips- granting your tongue access to enter her mouth. Your run your fingers through her hair, as she plays with the hem of your camisole. Brittany pulls away from the kiss, “If we start, I don’t think we’ll be able to stop.”_

_“So?” You reconnect your lips, and wrap your arms around her waist._

_“Babe, I think Rachel will kill us if she wakes up to see us having sex on her floor…”_

_“We’ll be quiet, she won’t even know!”_

_“Santana,” She leans in and whispers seductively in your ear, tracing shapes on your thigh simultaneously,“Considering the things I want to do you, I don’t think it’d be possible for you to keep quiet.”_

_Your jaw drops a little bit, and you instantly grow lustful. “Get up, and grab the car keys.”_

_“We can’t go to your house or mine, both of our parents are home…” Brittany states._

_“Who said anything about driving?” She continues to look confused, “Baby, we’re going to go have trashy backseat-sex.”_

_“You’re a genius,” She gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek, “I’ve always wanted to have trashy backseat-sex!”_

_“Same here, Britt. But I’m especially glad it’ll be with you, and not some random fuckbuddy.” She laughs, and you swear, you’ve never been happier._

**And together there,**

**in a shroud of frost**

**the mountain air**

**began to pass**

**through every pane of weathered glass,**

**and I held you closer than anyone would ever guess.**

_Snow falls from the sky, at an alarmingly fast rate. There has to be at least four feet of snow outside, you estimate. You look over at Brittany, sleeping on your bed. Your parents couldn’t get home last night, due to the wintry weather, so you called her. She came over instantly, and the two of you spent the entire night, cuddled up by the fire and binge-watching One Tree Hill. It’s her favorite television show, and she begged you to watch it with her. You agreed, despite the fact that cliché, very-heterosexual dramas bore you to tears._

_Now at seven in the morning, she sleeps, and you watch the snow come down through your bedroom window. Even though you pretty much despise everything about winter and the cold, it pains you just a little bit to think this might be your last winter in Ohio. When you and Brittany move to California, Christmases won’t be white, and your future children may never get to build a snowman. You know you’re getting way too ahead of yourself here, but you know deep in your heart that you and Brittany will start a family and grow old together._

_You redirect your attention to your sleeping girlfriend and simply watch her. This is when she looks the most beautiful. Her makeup is off, and her long blonde locks are a little bit messy. You lay down next to her, and snuggle up against her side, until you hear a thud downstairs. At once, all the hallway lights go off._

_“Brittany,” You tap your girlfriend, scarred, “Brittany! Wake up, something’s downstairs, and I’m scared.”_

_“Ugh Santana, no one’s down there,” She sleepily rolls over and shoves her head under her pillow, attempting to fall back to sleep._

_“No, I swear all of the lights in the hallway just went out. Someone’s down there.”_

_“Babe,” Brittany whines, “No one is down there. Your dad is a cop, the insanely high-protected alarm or whatever it’s called would’ve gone off. Power just probably went out or something, I don’t know.”_

_“Please, please come check with me!” You plead._

_“Fine,” Brittany rolls off the bed and stands up, “But once I prove you wrong, you’re making me breakfast in bed. I want french toast, pancakes and bacon.”_

_“Whatever, I don’t care, I’ll do whatever,” You wrap yourself around Brittany’s arm._

_“You’re too cute,” Brittany smiles and kisses the top of your head._

_“Shut up,” you murmur. The hallways are cold, with the temperature dropping every second. You know someone is in your house; the intruder probably left the door open._

_“Santana, the power is out… We lost power.”_

_“How do you know for sure?” You say unsure, and cling to her arm even tighter. You’re pretty sure you’ve made a mark._

_“I’ve tried to turn every light switch and television on this floor, none of them are working.”_

_“That doesn’t explain why it’s so cold. Brittany, someone’s in this house and left the door open,” You insist and continue to freak yourself out._

_“Oh my god,” Your girlfriend laughs, “When we lose power, the heating doesn’t work. A heating system runs on electricity…”_

_Your face blushes, as you realize what an idiot you actually are. “Oh,” you whisper._

_“Why do people always assume I’m the stupid one?” She teases lovingly._

_“You’re so mean,” you tease back._

_“Babe, I woke up at seven-something on a Saturday morning, strictly for you. I’m a saint…”_

_You laugh, “Yeah, you kind of are.”_

_“Now,” She kisses you gently, “Go make me breakfast, and then we’ll cuddle. The temperature is dropping by the minute and body heat is all we have.”_

_“I can’t make you breakfast, Britt… We don’t have power.”_

_“Get creative.” She states. You smile at her adorable response and head downstairs, with hopes of figuring out how the hell to prepare pancakes without electricity of any sort._

**Do you remember the JAMC?**

**And reading aloud from magazines?**

**I don’t know about you,**

**but I swear on my name they could smell it on me.**

**I’ve never been too good with secrets, oh.**

_“Brittany, it was lovely meeting you,” Your aunt reveals, giving your girlfriend a hug. You can tell that she genuinely means it- your entire family liked her. That’s not much of a surprise; everyone loves Brittany. Now knowing this, you feel more confident and prepared for tonight. You’re going to sit your parents down and finally tell them that you’re gay, and so madly in love._

_“It was nice to see you B,” Your mom winks, also giving her a hug._

_“It was great to see you too, Mrs. Lopez. Thank you for dinner,” Brittany smiles._

_“Anytime chica.”_

_You smile at Brittany, and walk her towards the door. “I’ll be right back to help with the dishes and stuff, I’m gonna walk Brittany to her car,” you call._

_Once the two of you are outside and alone, you look at her, “Was it really that bad?”_

_“Oh no, not at all. I actually had a really nice time- your family is really cool.”_

_You laugh, and take her hand. “Do you think they figured us out?”_

_She looks into your eyes, “Do you want the truth?”_

_You nod, “Of course.”_

_“Yeah,” She looks down and smiles, “I do think it’s pretty obvious we aren’t just friends. I mean baby, it’s not exactly typical to plan an entire dinner to introduce your entire family to just a friend…"_

_“Oh,” you pause, anxiety striking you in the chest at once._

_“I can see you worrying. Please stop worrying,” Brittany soothes._

_“Brittany, in thirty minutes, I’m going to shatter my parent’s illusions and tell them, my very catholic parents, that I’m gay,” you whisper, “Why should I not be worried? I literally have my entire family-and life for that matter- at stake ”_

_“I know for a fact they know already. Your father told me on my way out to take good care of you… I think that means he knows, right?” You laugh, “And also, you don’t have your entire life at stake here, no matter what happens tonight I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I will always be here."_

_You feel tears forming in your eyes, “I love you so much, Brittany.”_

_“I love you more,” You pull her into a deep kiss, before she continues, “and I’m so proud of you.”_

**Oh together there,**

**in a shroud of frost**

**the mountain air**

**began to pass**

**through every pane of weathered glass,**

**and I held you closer...**

_Anger and sadness pulse through your body. How could she go and mess up everything? How could she decide in one single moment to take your entire future and fucking destroy it? You guys… you know you were supposed to go to California together and get one of those cute shoebox apartments and decorate it with all the Ikea furniture you spent months picking out._ _You were going to get married and start a family. And now, none of this may happen because she isn’t graduating. And you're utterly devastated._

_You bang on her door. No answer. So you walk to the side of her house, and throw rocks at her bedroom window to attract her attention. You know she’s home, her car is in the driveway, as is her parents’. You keep throwing little pebbles at the pane of glass, until she finally opens the window._

_“Hey,” She looks around hesitantly, “Now’s not a good time.” You look up, her eyes are puffy and red._

_“Britt, what the hell is going on?” You yell._

_“Santana, please… Now isn’t a good time,” Your girlfriend’s pleading tone makes you sad._

_“I don’t care. Just let me come in,” you assert._

_“Fine,” Brittany lets you in the front door, and the two of you head to her ever-so familiar room, “What do you need so badly tonight?” You notice her tone borders on frustration and annoyance. She has no right to cop an attitude, you’re the one who’s suffering._

_“Just tell me why,” You feel the tears forming in your eyes._

_“Why what?”_

_“Why aren’t you graduating with me?” You look straight into her blue orbs, filling themselves with tears._

_She whispers, “Because I don’t want to.”_

_“Do you know how fucking selfish that is?” You scream, “We’re supposed to be together, go to college together, graduate together! I keep telling myself this is a dream, and that this isn’t really happening and that you, my girlfriend and best friend, aren’t just abandoning me. You have control over this Brittany-”_

_“No, I don’t!” She snaps._

_“What do you mean you don’t? Who do you think you are-”_

_“Santana,” Brittany tries to speak, but you don’t let her._

_“No, why do you get to single handedly decide that you don’t want to graduate and fuck up our entire-”_

_“I have cancer,” She states. For a moment, you don’t think you heard her right._

_“What?” You ask, dumbfounded._

_“I have cancer,” She whispers, before collapsing on the bed, sobbing, “I have cancer, Santana! I have terminal cancer!”_

_The walls slowly close in on you, you swear, you can’t breathe, “No, Brittany you don’t have cancer.”_

_“I-I-I do,” Her slender body convulses, “I have c-c-cancer. And t-there’s nothing they can do, to make it g-g-g-go away!”_

_“No, baby… They need to make it go away, they’re going to make it go away,” You sit beside her on the bed, trying to keep your emotions intact as you wrap your arms tightly around her._

_“I’m so sorry S-Santana!” She wails, “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t going to graduate because I-I don’t want false hope that this is going to just g-g-go away and our lives will be p-perfectly normal.”_

_“Never talk like that, you can’t say stuff like that. There’s always hope,” you squeeze her tighter as the tears fall faster down your cheeks, leaving black trails. Even though you’re shaking, you’re still doing everything you can to keep your crying to a minimum- you know that if you start sobbing harder, you may never stop._

_“There isn’t- they’ve done everything they c-could.”_

_“Why haven’t you told me?” You ask, almost angrily._

_“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she cries._

_“So what was going to happen? You were just gonna d-” You stop yourself, unable to say the horrifying word, “-it was just gonna be the end and I wouldn’t have known?”_

_“I didn’t know what I was gonna do!” Your girlfriend screams hysterically, “I’m so sorry!”_

_You know in this moment you’re going to need to be strong for Brittany, even though you feel like you can barely breathe._

 

By the end of the song, Santana sobs hysterically. The entire room claps, surprised by the amount of emotions a song was able to elicit.

“I’m really sorry that you and Brittany broke up…” Mercedes says softly.

“Yes, even though you were a total bitch earlier, I must agree with Mercedes. I’m truly sorry, Santana,” Rachel adds.

“No, we-we,” Santana slouches onto the ground, not being able to handle this. This is all too much for her. Her breathing speeds up, and her heart begins to pound. She wonders if her heart is actually breaking. Quinn races over towards Santana, and takes her in her arms.

“I’m so sorry San, I know you guys didn’t break up… She told me last night,” Santana looks up to see her friend crying, “You’re going to get through this.”

“I’m not,” Santana whimpers. During the last verse, it hit her like a ton of bricks- that in three weeks, she wouldn’t just be saying goodbye to her girlfriend, her best friend… She would be saying goodbye to her happiness, her future, and her sense of purpose. At the beginning of this year, she had thought that this time would be bittersweet, yet exciting. Everyone’s supposed to be graduating, and planning the rest of their lives. But Santana knows she couldn’t have been more wrong. This time is now horrifying, for in three weeks when everyone graduates and Brittany takes her final breath, she’ll be alone. But for right now, to make it through the next five minutes, all Santana can do is sit on the cold linoleum floor, wrapped in Quinn’s embrace and make herself believe that she will get through these endings, even though she knows that’s not possible.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please review and then hit me up on Fanfiction.net- same username (destroytheblur)!


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